


Stretched

by cryptye



Category: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Leatherface - Freeform, No Smut, Texas, bubba's got a girlfriend bubba's got a girlfriend, radio stations man, yee and dare I say it haw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 12:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17487779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptye/pseuds/cryptye
Summary: Now alone in the world, a DJ and a cannibal must help each other heal from a traumatic event.





	1. Prologue

     Stretch flopped onto her arm chair, exhausted out of her mind. She wanted to scream out in frustration.

     He wasn’t cooperating. Whining and locking himself in the bathroom. She tried everything.

    Head falling into her hands, she began to sob.

    Elsewhere in the house, he cracked the door open in curiosity. Where did Stretch go? She was not banging on the door anymore. Squeezing himself out of the bathroom, he slowly tiptoed into the hallway. The carpet muted his heavy footsteps. He stopped suddenly, seeing the tired girl weeping in the living room. He didn’t exactly know what to do, but he wanted to help and began shuffling shyly towards Stretch.

   She had her knees pulled up to her chest, her face was covered by shaky hands. The tee she wore was soaked with tears and her hair was messy as a rat’s nest. Bubba stood silently before her, hoping she would notice him.

 

    Look, he’s out of bathroom now. Stop crying please!

 

    He anxiously played with his tie for a bit until he finally gathered enough bravery to reach out. Slowly and softly, he petted her leg with his rough hands.

    A tear-stained face peered up at him in surprise. Subconsciously, she pushed herself into the chair more.

    The man stood awkwardly, shifting on his feet, in front of her. Was she going to be mad? She cautiously let her feet down.

    He dropped to his knees before her and leaned into her lap. He started sobbing. Oh, gosh. She was going to be mad at him!

    Gasping, she stiffened. “Whoa! Wait!” The man was gripping her jeans and legs tightly. “Don’t cry please! I know you’re scared and upset!” She grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. “It’s okay! It’s okay!” She kept repeating it until he calmed down.

    His grip loosened a little bit. Tears fell behind his mask. She wiped one of her own tears, then patted his shoulder. “It’s okay.” She breathed.

    His breath hitched a few times and leaned into her lap more for comfort.

    “I’m not mad. I’m frustrated. I want to…” She paused rubbing his shoulder. “I want us to be friends, okay? And I don’t want you all up and being scared.”

    She wanted to help this poor, sweet boy.

    “I’m here for you.”


	2. Goodnight

   The broadcasting incident was blamed on a stunt by some local hooligans. After many handling dozens of complaints, Stretch returned to her job. Without L.G, the struggle of maintaining the station was hard work.

    Oh, how she missed him.  

    When the police found _their_ lair, it was empty, no survivors were discovered, only fragments of human remains. She told them about the hippie and the cook, the ones who did the most damage, yet she failed to mention the chainsaw-wielding buffoon.

 

    Why?

 

    She didn’t know either.

 

    But here she was, putting bandages on his wounds while he laid on her sofa. He complained in gibberish as her cold fingers checked each cut on his torso.  

    “Oh, quit your whinin’.” She would mutter, wrapping up a final bandage. “You’re fine.”

    Honestly, she felt bad for him and he _did_ spare her at the station on _that_ night. This was an awkward situation, housing a member of a party that ruined your life was looked down upon in a lot of places.

    Some night ago, she was driving home from the station when she noticed that familiar, bulky shape trudging along the highway. Without thinking, she pulled over.

_“Need a lift?”_

 

_Holding his side, the man paused walking._

 

_“It’s Bubba, right?” She leaned over to open the passenger door._

 

    Shaking her head, recalling the memory, she set aside the first-aid kit. She regretted so much. They did have something in common, they both endured loss.

    A quiet whine snapped her out of her thoughts. “What?”

    He fastened his stained shirt and rolled off the couch. With a hand on her hip, Stretch tapped her foot impatiently. Motioning to the clock on the wall, he grunted.

    “Yeah, it’s time for bed.” She put away the kit and discarded old bandages while Bubba stood in the center of the living room, arms crossed. He huffed out a grunt and she scowled at his remark. “Look, man, I’m tired, and you need to sleep.” She eventually sighed. Finally sitting back down on the sofa with a bounce, he leaned his head on one of the pillows. Grabbing a neatly folded quilt from a basket nearby, she stepped towards the laying man. Deep within her, she still expected him to jump at her with a chainsaw.

    Now sleepily, he adjusted himself into the couch to get comfortable and Stretch draped the blanket over his large form.

    “G’night.” She began heading down the hallway to her own room, just like any other night.

    This time she stopped and dropped her shoulders. Turning around, she strode over to the side of the couch. Still awake, eyes full of confusion, he blinked while he watched her lean over him, planting a light kiss on his masked forehead. Quickly racing away back to her room and locking the door, she wiped her mouth off with her sleeve.

    Bubba’s mouth parted into a big, goofy grin. It had been a long time since he received a goodnight kiss.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally should be studying but here's this. yeehaw


End file.
